


First Christmas

by Infie



Series: Holiday Trilogy [1]
Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Episode Related, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infie/pseuds/Infie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec faces his first Christmas after Rachel's death by remembering their only Christmas together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Christmas

**(December 24, 2021, Space Needle)**

I stood on the very edge of the Space Needle, staring at the Seattle skyline. I hate this time of year; the memories come with their painfully sharp teeth and eat me alive. Everyone knows that the memories that hurt the most are the good ones. 

Christmas. Again. 

_Fuck._

Yep. It's the good ones that really make you bleed. 

* * *

**(December 22, 2018 - Berrisford Estate)**

"Simon! Simon!" Rachel rushed up to me as I came up the steps to the front door, cheeks glowing in the cold air. Her eyes sparkled at me. She looked beautiful. 

"Rachel." I smiled at her, ignoring the flutter in my chest. 

"Oh, Simon! Dad said yes, that you could stay with us for Christmas. Isn't that wonderful?" 

I felt my face tighten a little, and consciously worked to maintain the smile. "I didn't know you were planning on asking him." 

"I wanted to surprise you! And, I know you don't have any family..." Suddenly her face fell. "You had other plans. You don't want to stay. I'm sorry, Simon, I didn't think..." 

I couldn't bear to see that look on her face. "No, no, Rachel, I'm thrilled, really." I smiled at her again, warmly. "You just took me by surprise, that's all." What the hell was I supposed to tell Sandoval? I followed Rachel into the house, only half-listening to her excited chatter. This _would_ be an opportunity to get access to Berrisford's files. I was pretty sure that Sandoval would go for that. 

We ran into Berrisford in the hallway. "Simon." We shook hands. "I understand you'll be joining us for Christmas." He smiled, and it almost reached his eyes. Then he looked at Rachel, and his face lit up at the pleasure reflected in his daughter's expression. "I'm glad." he finished, and meant it. 

"Me too, sir." I said, and looking at Rachel, I meant it too. 

**(December 22, Manticore)**

Sandoval circled me, staring closely. I was careful, and gave nothing away. "How close would you say you've gotten to the daughter, 494?" he asked suddenly. 

"She has indicated that she enjoys my company, sir." I replied matter of factly. 

"I want you to continue to cultivate that, 494." 

"Yes, sir." 

"This is important, 494. Take her up on her invitation. Utilize the opportunity to get to Berrisford's computer if you can." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Dismissed." 

I nodded, spun on my heel, and left. 

* * *

**(December 24, Berrisford Estate)**

Rachel greeted me at the door, all vibrant energy and thousand watt smiles. I grinned back, helpless in the face of her joy, and she grabbed my hand to pull me inside. "I thought you'd never get here!" 

"It's snowing." I said by way of explanation, releasing her to drop my duffel on the floor and take off my coat. I shook my head, spraying her with a dusting of the snow I was carrying, and brushed the snow off my parka. After I hung it carefully inside the door, I retrieved her hand, and she glowed at me. She was dressed in a festive red and green sweater than clung to her curves, and snug black cotton stretch pants showed off her legs. My stomach and lower things reacted, and I had to take a deep breath and think fixedly of other things. The sight of her took me like that sometimes, by surprise, before I could control my response. Her dark hair shone in the golden light of the foyer's chandalier. God, she was radiant. When she turned that smile on me I felt lighter, saner, better. Suddenly I realized I'd been staring at her wordlessly for quite a while, and she laughed. 

I couldn't help it, I laughed too. 

"Well, you made it in time for dinner, and that's what matters." she flashed me that staggering smile again. "After dinner, will you play for us? I can't wait to hear your version of 'Jingle Bell Rock'." 

I nodded, following her through the house into the dining room. "Of course I will." I told her easily. "If you've got the music, I'll play anything you want." The last came out much more intensely than I'd intended, and Rachel spun around in front of me, giving the hallway a quick glance to be sure we were alone. She leaned up on tiptoe and gave me a quick kiss. My breath left me in a rush. 

"That's to tide you over." she told me with a mischievious grin and a cocked eyebrow. 

"Ah." I still hadn't recovered my wits. The sensation of her body was burned into mine, and I had trouble focusing. She gave another lovely ripple of laughter, then we were in the dining room, and had an audience again. 

"Simon." Berrisford rose, shook my hand, and waved me to my seat. He lifted a tiny silver bell and rang it, and immediately the soup course was brought in, along with some wine. 

"I really am sorry to be so late." I said, remorseful. Berrisford shook his head. 

"Don't worry about it." He poured us each a glass of wine. The clean, crisp taste helped clear my head a little, and I cautiously tasted my soup. 

"Wow. This is really good." I looked down at the french onion soup in surprise. "I have all new respect for your cook." 

Rachel gave a tinkling laugh, and once again I was captivated. A discreet cough broke my focus, and Berrisford smiled at me, more understanding than I would have been in his place. I realized that he had continued speaking, and that I'd missed everything he said. He shook his head, then stood and picked up his glass. I stood too, thinking he meant to give a toast, but he waved me back to my seat and made his way to the door, ringing the bell again. "I'm going to eat in my study," he said to the maid that answered the call, giving us a tolerant look. "I think these two want to have some time alone." 

Rachel blushed, but gave her dad a brilliant smile that made him laugh and leave, shaking his head. 

We ate in relative peace. Rachel chatted about school, her friends, her father, and I found it all fascinating. I should have been bored to tears, but I wasn't. It bothered me more than I liked. Rachel frowned, and I realized she'd asked me a question and, lost in introspection, I hadn't noticed. "Am I boring you, Simon?" Her eyes reflected her hurt, and I hurried to reassure her. 

"No. Not at all." I had no problem being sincere. "I just find you very distracting." Hmmm. I was just full of uncomfortable truths tonight, wasn't I? 

Rachel rose and took my hand, drawing me to my feet. "Let's play!" She sparkled with mischief, and I laughed and allowed myself to be pulled along in her wake. She sat down at the baby grand and patted the seat beside her. I joined her willingly, eagerly, and raised my hands over the keys, then looked up. 

"There's no music!" 

"It's Christmas music!" she replied, playing a vaguely familiar tune in the upper register. I just looked at her blankly. "Don't you know any Christmas music?" 

"They aren't very big on Christmas where I come from." I told her. 

"Oh." She paused, then jumped up and went to a nearby bookcase. "Here you go!" She planted a sheaf of music in front of me. I took one look at the title and burst out laughing. 

"Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer?" 

"It's a classic!" she grinned at me, apparently happy to have banished the shadows again. I shook my head and rolled my eyes, but started to play. The tune picked me up and rolled me along, bringing a grin to my face. Rachel sang along lustily, bringing her father to the piano room. He joined his voice to hers, and for while I felt a sense of belonging I'd never before experienced. It was wonderful. And it hurt. 

* * *

**(December 25, 2021, Space Needle)**

Up on the Needle, I drew an arm across my eyes, blaming their stinging on the blustery wind that threatened to toss me over the edge. I stepped backwards, just enough to have some room to sit. I curled up, hugging my legs. My chest felt tight. I concentrated hard on just breathing. 

Fuck, I hate Christmas. I snuck a look at my watch. 3 AM. I tilted my head back, gave a shuddering groan, and let the memories come. 

They were wonderful, and I was bleeding again. 

* * *

**(December 25, 2018 - Berrisford Estate)**

A soft knock brought me awake in a rush of adrenaline. I was off the bed and against the wall beside the door before I even realized I'd moved. I shot a look at the clock. 3 AM. The knock came again, and this time the door cracked open ever so slightly. 

"Simon?" Rachel's voice was a whisper, tentative, and I let out my breath in a great whoosh of air. 

"I'm here, Rachel. Just a sec." I grabbed the long terrycloth robe they'd laid out for me, then opened the door wide. "What's up?" 

"I want you to see something." She was bundled up in her own thick burgundy robe, and she looked mysterious in the darkness. She took my hand and tugged, and of course I followed. She led me to the den, where the Christmas tree had been placed, and as we entered I blinked. She had placed candles around the room. Not an overpowering number, just one here or there. Enough to fill the room with golden light. She dropped to the thick rug laid out beside the tree, and pulled me down beside her. When she looked at me, her eyes were dark and serious. The candles lit her face lovingly. I felt my breath catch in my throat. 

I dragged my eyes from her with an effort, and tried to concentrate on the gorgeously decorated tree. It didn't work, and soon I was staring at her again. "Beautiful." I said softly, and I didn't mean the setting. I expected her to blush, or look away, but she didn't. She leaned forward, spilling herself into my lap. Her eyes never left mine as she curled her hand around the back of my neck and brought my mouth down to meet hers. 

She tasted sweet, like chocolate, and I found myself melting further into the kiss, deepening it without meaning to. It was like the time in the pool, when I'd let go almost against my will. She cuddled more tightly against me, her hip brushing my groin, and I broke away, trying desperately to catch my breath. "Rachel." I licked my lips, holding her away from me. "Rachel, we shouldn't do this." 

Rachel looked up at me, her eyes full. "Simon, this is our first Christmas together." she smiled, looking more seductive than she had any right to. "I want it to be memorable. I want..." She paused, searching for the right words. The words to convince me. "I want it to be you." She looked at me beseechingly, eyes wide and longing. 

{Sweet Jesus.} I rose unsteadily, backing away a little. "I... I didn't have this in mind. I... uh... don't have any protection." Rachel stood, too, and advanced on me. 

"I went on the pill the week after I met you." she breathed against my mouth, then released the edges of her robe and slid my hands inside. She was nude under the robe, and her skin was warm and silky against my hands. I groaned and tried to pull away, but she glided her fingers into my robe and pressed herself against me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "I want you, Simon. I want it to be you." 

Those were the words. 

My will broke. I have no defence against my actions; I was fully aware of what I was doing. The mechanics of sex were hardly unknowns; Manticore encouraged their soldiers to experiment and indulge sexually, as it made them less inhibited and more capable on missions. All I can say is that mechanics had nothing at all to do with what happened, and that with Rachel in my arms, telling me she wanted me, I _could not resist_. 

I clutched her against me, spreading my robe and wrapping it around her, bundling her close to me. The only barrier between us was my boxers, and a poor obstacle they were. I lowered Rachel back to the rug, spread her hair in a dark fan around her head, and just looked at her. The glow of the candles gilded every line of her body. She was magnificent, flushed, untouched. I reached out hestitantly and ran a finger down her side. She shuddered with reaction, eyes wide and trusting. I tried again to pull away, but she grabbed my hand and tugged, pulling my into a lean over her. Then she pressed my hand against her breast and groaned, undulating her hips. I could smell her desire like a heady perfume on the air, and whatever remained of my mind left me. 

I swooped down and captured her lips, drinking deeply. She moaned, writhed, and when I caressed her breast she gave a blurt of sound, arching against my hand. God, she was so sensitive, so responsive. I ran my mouth down her neck, and slid my hand down her body. Her untutored response was so different from anything I'd ever experienced, and I found it unbearably moving. I found myself breathing in tight pants, and had to bite my lip hard and remind myself to go slowly. The taste of blood and the quick burst of pain brought me back to myself a little, and I glided my hand down her flank, ending with my fingers resting against the dark tangle of curls at the juncture of her thighs. I stroked the soft skin there gently, and Rachel moaned, a rich, lovely sound. She grabbed my hand and impatiently arched against it, sliding one of my fingers between the lips of her sex. She shuddered as I rubbed against the tiny bundle of nerves, and the rush of wetness against my fingers wrung a hoarse sound from my throat. I stroked against her with just the tips of my fingers, and she cried out. I eased a single finger into her, and she stiffened, her eyes wide. Instantly, I moved to withdraw, thinking I had hurt her, but she held my wrist tighter and rolled her hips, internal muscles fluttering against my finger. Her eyes closed and her head lolled, and the expression on her face is one I will carry with me forever. "God, Simon." Her voice was a throaty murmur, and the vibration against my lips rocketed straight to my groin. "God. Do that. More." I smiled against her throat, and slid another finger inside, working gently to stretch her a little. She flexed with each movement I made, giving tiny panting moans. 

I moved my thumb to her clitoris, and she came apart in my arms. 

Her orgasm took her by surprise, and she shuddered wildly, shouting out a cry I barely managed to muffle with my lips. She wrapped her thighs around my wrist and rocked her hips, each tiny movement of my fingers wringing another twitch from her body. She opened eyes wise with dark knowledge, and smiled at me glowingly. "Simon, that was wonderful." She kissed me, softly, releasing my hand. She snuggled close against me, trapping my erection against her stomach, and I had to close my eyes and think of quadratic functions to avoid finishing right then. 

"It gets much better than that." I told her, rolling onto my back and pulling her so that she lay along the length of my body. She rose to straddle me of her own accord. She reached down and took me in her hands running her fingers along my length, testing the textures and sensations. I gritted my teeth and felt sweat pop out on my forehead, but I let her examine me to her heart's content. Finally satisfied, she looked into my eyes and squeezed. I don't know what expression crossed my face but she gave a low rippling laugh, and I couldn't help but smile with her. 

She rose onto her knees, positioned me at her entrance, and lowered herself onto my body. She moaned a little, but her orgasm had made her ready for me, and she eased herself down fully until she was sitting on my thighs. She blinked, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, and it was all I could do to keep still as she learned to accomodate me. She felt like tight, wet satin, all heat and oily slickness, and all I wanted to do was plunge into her wildly. But this was her night, and so I waited, jaw clenched, fists tight. "You feel fantastic." I told her sincerely, hoarsely. She smiled and lifted herself back up, inch by agonizing inch, then settled back down. The feeling that watching her aroused in me was... indescribable, like nothing I'd ever felt before. Hell, compared to this storm of emotion, I'd never felt _anything_. Ever. 

"Oh," she said, a hitch in her voice. "Oh, Simon. I had no idea." 

I returned my hands to the flesh of our union, and flicked against her nub. She spasmed, then closed her eyes and fell forward against my chest. I rolled us, settling her back against the rug and lifting myself on my hands so I could watch where I disappeared into her body. The sight pushed me over the edge of stillness and I began to move my hips. The sensation of her welcoming body sliding up and down my shaft, her breasts pressing against my chest, and the panting moans she was making in my ear sent vibrations riccocheting though my body, until I was nothing but a mass of feelings. My mind left me along with all capacity for conscious thought. All of my focus, all of _me_ , was concentrated on the woman under me. When she suddenly quaked around me, I lost what little control I had left and plunged into her wildly, muffling her cries against my shoulder. I spent myself in explosion of emotion that I had never felt before, and as I came down I wrapped myself tightly around her, kissing her sweaty temple over and over. We rolled onto our sides without disengaging, Rachel's leg curled around my hip, her head cradled in the hollow of my neck. I stared at the tree, already knowing what a monumental mistake I had made, and completely unable to feel regret for any of it. Rachel was pressing small kisses along my collarbone, and my arms tightened around her of their own accord, making her giggle and wriggle to be free. 

She sat up, pulling her robe back on, smiling at me with delight. "I love that." she told me sincerely. "When can we do it again?" 

I laughed, arranging myself more comfortably and watching her with an all new possessiveness I knew Manticore would love to beat out of me. "It'll take me a while." 

"Oh." she pouted with disappointment, then leaned over and kissed me lingeringly. "I can wait." She stayed still for an instant, then clapped her hands. "I know! You can open my present!" 

"No," I told her firmly. "You open mine, first." I reached past her and withdrew the small silver wrapped package from under the tree. She took it with a shy smile, but ripped off the wrapping with eager hands. She opened it, and her face lit with pleasure. "Oh, Simon, I love it!" She pulled out the silver bracelet set all around with dangling music notes. 

"If you lay it out, the notes form Beethoven's Fifth. It's one of my favourite pieces." 

She threw her arms around me, rocking me backwards, then put the bracelet on, admiring the silver gleaming against her skin in the candlelight. "OK." she said, handing me a large package. "Your turn." 

I opened the package with trepidation, and drew out a butter-soft grey leather jacket. I held it in my hands in my lap, and felt my eyes sting. I looked at Rachel. "I love it." I put everything I was feeling into my face, my voice. "I love it." 

* * *

**(December 25, 2021 - Space Needle)**

I gave a choked laugh. God. I lay back, prone on the metal monument, hard as a rock. This was the kind of paradox Christmas always aroused in me; lust and pain, love and rage. But I owed it to Rachel to remember this, how magnificent she was. How much I had loved her. And maybe, I owed it to myself, too. 

I looked at my watch; 7 AM. I'd been here, lost in reverie, all night. I rolled to my feet, faster than thought, and headed out for TC. Time to get back to work. 

I reached Terminal City at eight, after stopping for a coffee and breakfast. I hit the command centre first, only to find that no one was there. I frowned, took a second to concentrate on listening. The sound of laughter drew me towards our makeshift cafeteria, and just as I reached the doors there was a blast of clear, mellow sound, C sharp. I opened the door warily, and there was Joshua and Dix setting up some maze of equipment in the middle of the floor. Joshua leaped to his feet and tried vainly to hide the mysterious pile of wires and boxes from my sight. 

"Alec!" he huffed, spreading his arms as if that might help. "You're early." 

"Actually, Josh, I'm on time." I replied slowly, eyeing the wires. "Uh... what's going on?" 

"On time is early for you." Dix muttered softly. 

He and Joshua exchanged a look, then sighed in unison, stepping away from their work. They each spread their arms like one of those gameshow hostesses. "Merry Christmas, Alec!" 

"What?" I still had no idea what they hell they were talking about. 

Joshua fumbled in his shirt and withdrew a sheaf of only slightly paint-splattered papers. "Here." he said, handing them to me and patting my arm nervously. "This is from me." 

"Gee, Josh, I don't know what to say..." I broke off as the contents of the papers registered. "You got me music?" I was touched, really touched. 

"And this is from the rest of us!" Dix gestured grandly at the pile again, and Joshua tilted his head back and bared his teeth in his version of a happy grin. I slowly made my away around so I could look at the other side. Electric keyboards; about 4 of them, all set up on a handmade rack with speakers facing out to the sides. I blinked, but they were still there. 

"You did this for me?" My voice was hoarse. 

"Well, we figured some of the others might want to give it a shot, too, but mostly..." Dix broke off his chatter as Joshua touched his arm. 

"Alec smelled sad." Joshua's eyes were compassionate. "We wanted Alec to be happy." 

Dix couldn't restrain himself. "And," he added excitedly, "Since it's our first Christmas here, we were hoping you'd play for us!" 

I set the music on the rack and ran my fingers tentatively across the keys, jumping at the immediate response. Dix hurriedly turned it down, and I smiled at them both, running quickly through a set of 'Chopsticks'. Joshua grinned back, then gestured at the music. "It's Christmas!" He told me. "Play Christmas music." 

I laughed, laughed until tears ran down my face, and I couldn't seem to stop. I gave Joshua a hug. "I love it." I told him. "I love it." 

I turned back to the keyboards. From memory I started playing "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer", as the rest of TC started coming in and clapping along. 

Friends are like memories; the best ones can make you bleed. 

Or, they can make you free. 

-30-


End file.
